How To Trust
by JustAnotherSlytherinFangirl
Summary: When Merlin is captured by Morgana he is subjected to the Teine Diaga. Although Arthur and his knights rescue him, they don't know how to help a terrified and breaking Merlin. With secrets past and present revealed in the process and Merlin's fears laid bare, how can he know how to trust? Magic-Reveal.
1. How To Trust

Merlin didn't smile anymore. And he flinched whenever anyone spoke to him. He constantly had this wide doe-eyed look like he was never not afraid. And it was wrong. It was all so wrong, wrong for Merlin to act like this and wrong for Merlin to look like this.

Merlin always smiled. He'd befriend anyone. And he was never cowardly. He was the bravest man Arthur knew, even if he'd never admit it. Merlin showed fear so rarely. He was afraid when they went to face the dragon, but then they all had been. But Merlin had gone anyway. Without armour or a weapon and Arthur had never been able to explain Merlin's actions that day. Except to know that Merlin was the bravest, most loyal man he knew.

But Arthur hadn't seen that man in weeks. In his stead was a frightened, saddened and breaking child. And Arthur didn't know what to do.

Two weeks ago Merlin had been captured by Morgana in an ambush. Selfless, noble idiot that he was, he'd put himself in danger to save Arthur. He'd been at her mercy for days. It had been a harrowing week, searching for him. Not knowing whether he was dead by now, or if they'd ever see him again. Arthur and the knights had rescued him in the end, in time they'd thought when they'd found him still alive. But Morgana had taunted as they'd escaped that Merlin had seen his deepest fears. Gaius had confirmed when they'd returned that Merlin showed signs of having suffered the Teine Diaga, a magical ritual that tortured someone through their own mind.

Arthur had never been more angry than when he'd heard that. He'd never wanted to kill Morgana as much as he'd wanted to then; for putting Merlin through that. Merlin didn't deserve that. What had Merlin ever done to warrant such malevolence, such a violation of one's own self. He couldn't comprehend the hatred Morgana must hold that could lead her to commit such an abominable act towards someone who had once been her friend. But such thoughts only lead Arthur to remember days when Merlin would get Morgana flowers and Arthur had been sure the servant had harboured an ill-advised crush on the King's ward. It was hard to think on that knowing where they had all ended up.

But Arthur could only imagine what Merlin had been through. He didn't truly know the horrors. He didn't actually know what Merlin would have seen. What was Merlin's biggest fear? What would a servant fear? Merlin was no simple servant that was for sure, which was perhaps why his fear had devastated him so. Because that was really it. Merlin was walking around as a shadow of himself and that was after a week of recovery.

Arthur could still remember when they'd first rescued Merlin. When they'd found him huddled on the ground, at the top of a tower, shaking. He'd ran to his friend, and checked how badly injured he was. Only he wasn't injured at all. He was breathing harshly and whimpering... he'd been scared. And of course he was scared, he'd been held captive by Morgana for six days. Six days he'd been there. Tormented by Morgana in who knew what ways, of course he was scared. He hadn't paid it any notice still focused on getting them out of there.

It wasn't until they were in the forest and had stopped to get their breath, now safe, that Arthur had noticed something was very wrong with Merlin. He wasn't just scared, he was paralysed. He couldn't seem to stop shaking and his eyes darted all around him. His eyes. Arthur had never, in all his years, in all the battles he'd fought, he'd never seen such terror in someone's eyes. It was beyond panic what Arthur could see. They'd been unable to get Merlin to say a word, unable to get him to even look at any of them, his eyes constantly darting away. Constantly flinching any time one of them got too loud or too close. He hadn't looked like Merlin. And Arthur hadn't known what to do except to bring him home.

They knew they just had to give him time. And with time the panic had seemed to fade, only to replaced by dread. Merlin didn't look like he was about to bolt anymore but he was... morose. There was no other word. He seemed to pass the time as if thinking the worst was about to happen.

Guinevere had insisted constantly that it was because Merlin wasn't able to feel safe anymore. That he'd just need time and patience and kindness, and eventually he'd come to feel safe again. Arthur had believed her when she'd said it, but as every day passed, he wasn't so sure.

Merlin seemed more afraid when someone was nice to him. It took Arthur four days to figure it out: Merlin didn't trust him anymore.

Merlin had been allowed back to work; Gaius had assured him that he was physically healthy aside from some slight malnutrition, but after a few days Gaius let Merlin go back to being a servant. They'd all been hopeful; hopeful that some familiarity and routine would help. Instead Merlin had been helping Arthur with his armour before a training session, and when Arthur had pulled his sword out, Merlin hadn't just flinched, he'd near thrown himself away from the sword. He pressed himself against the armoury wall in a second, almost as if on instinct. It had taken Arthur a long time to convince Merlin that he wasn't going to hurt him. Merlin had just shaken his head and looked as though he didn't believe Arthur. As though he didn't trust Arthur.

Arthur hadn't known what to do after that. Except to destroy as many training dummies out of resentment as he could. Resentment that Merlin was afraid of him. Resentment that Arthur had let Merlin get captured at all. Resentment that while he'd saved his friend's body he hadn't saved his mind. And Arthur couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, he and Merlin were no longer friends at all.

And why? What fear could Merlin have possibly had. He knew no man ever would handle facing their deepest fears well, but Merlin was brave. And what could Merlin have possibly feared anyway? On an average day Arthur would've said that Merlin was afraid of the wind, as skittish as a colt, a girl's petticoat. But he knew that wasn't true. If he was being serious he might've said that Merlin feared for his friends. It seemed the loyal, kind and noble sort of fear that Merlin would have. He'd have expected that Merlin might've seen Arthur, seen the knights, Gaius, in pain or dying. But that sort of fear didn't warrant Merlin's reaction. Shouldn't Merlin have been relieved to see them again then? Instead of terrified?

The truth was that he had no idea what Merlin truly was afraid of. He didn't doubt that Merlin feared for his friend's safety, but he clearly feared something else. And Merlin was such a private person that Arthur had no idea what that something esle could be. He just couldn't imagine what his ever cheeful manservant could possibly have been so terrified of. What could have reduced him to this?

Arthur didn't have a clue. But after a week of this cloud of despair hanging over them, a week of Merlin's measured yet jittery steps, a week of silence without even a word from the friend he needed most, without so much as a smile; he was going to do something about it. He'd dreaded the week Merlin had been missing that he'd never hear his friend's voice again, never give him an absurdly long list of chores and be called a made-up word in retaliation. He couldn't bear that becoming a reality. By some miracle he'd gotten Merlin back, but not whole. He needed to find some way to bring his friend back. Arthur needed Merlin to smile again. Just one smile that could give him some hope that maybe, one day, he'd be okay again. And he had just the idea to help his friend.

XxX

"I've been looking for you, Merlin." Merlin looked up from where he'd been polishing Arthur's boots in the King's chamber. No smile, not so much as a glimmer in his eye. Just tense anxiety. Arthur sighed, but forged on nonetheless. This was exactly why he had to do this afterall. "I've invited your mother to Camelot." He announced.

He'd been expecting if not a smile then at least a slight happiness in his manservant's expression. Some surprise. He'd always been so happy whenever he got to see his mother and he truly never saw her enough. Arthur had expected at worst that Merlin would be indifferent to the announcement and remain as anxious as ever. He hadn't been expecting abject horror.

What little colour Merlin had these days drained away leaving Merlin starkly pale and trembling. His eyes were wide with shock but not a pleasant one. He shot to his feet and his posture was one that Arthur could recognize from his frequent hunts and chasing criminals. Merlin felt trapped. He was looking for an escape.

"Why would you do that?" Merlin's voice, surprisingly loud considering he'd only muttered the last week, was shaking.

"Because you're upset Merlin. I understand why, although I don't quite understand everything you went through." Arthur noted with surprise that Merlin didn't flinch just stared continuously. "She's your mother Merlin, I thought she might have been some comfort to you-"

"Well, you're wrong!" Merlin cut Arthur off and Arthur was surprised at the vehemence in Merlin's voice. He seemed genuinely distressed at the idea. And Arthur couldn't comprehend why. "I don't want to see her!"

Arthur was shocked. He had no idea what was going on anymore. "She's already on her way. I sent Elyan to get her two days ago, she should be here by tomorrow." Arthur tried to speak gently as he might to someone who was cornered, to calm them down. It didn't work.

Merlin backed away from Arthur, shaking his head so vigourously Arthur genuinely worried he'd cause himself harm, before bolting past Arthur out the door.

Arthur could do nothing more than stare mouth agape at the wide open door as it banged against the wall and listen to Merlin's rapidly disappearing footsteps.

XxX

Arthur was way out of his depth. And despite her son's bizarre reaction to the news, Arthur was glad when Hunith finally arrived in Camelot. Mostly. He was a little apprehensive. But he was sure Hunith's actual presence would help Merlin. She must've soothed him numerous times before when he was scared and he certainly appeared very childlike at the moment.

"Arthur." Hunith greeted familiarly though with a small curtsey. Arthur nodded his head in turn.

"I'm so glad to see you. I'm not sure how much you know about what happened..." He looked briefly at where Elyan was leaving to take care of the horses, before turning back to Hunith.

"Not much. Sir Elyan mentioned that Merlin had been captured... That he was still hurting." The woman's voice was filled with worry and concern.

Arthur gestured towards the doors and escorted her inside.

"Yes. Morgana captured him during an ambush. We're not sure what she did to him while he was there, some magic ritual that shows someone their fears... he's not been quite the same since. I thought your presence might help." Arthur explained.

Hunith nodded looking more and more concerned as Arthur spoke.

"You seem troubled as well." Hunith ventured.

Arthur wanted to deny it, but it was just him and Hunith and for once in the past two weeks he didn't want to pretend that everything was alright. "Of course. Like I said, Merlin is... not well."

"Not well? What is truly wrong? As concerned as you all are Merlin must be more than simply unsettled."

Arthur wasn't sure how to explain it. "He's... scared. Still. I don't know what Morgana showed him, but he doesn't trust anyone. He acts as though everyone is about to hurt him."

Arthur thought he saw understanding flash across Hunith's face before she turned away.

After a beat of silence as they walked the corridors to Gaius's quarters, Arthur had to ask, "You don't know what he feared most do you?"

Hunith looked at him in surprise. "My Lord?" She asked.

"It's just... I can't think of Merlin being so terrified of anything. You're his mother, perhaps you... Never mind, I shouldn't have asked."

Arthur kept on walking but couldn't help but notice that Hunith seemed more shaken than when she'd first arrived.

They reached the physicians chambers and entering found Gaius alone at his workbench.

"Hunith!" Gaius looked up with a pleased look on his face. He came forward to greet her and Arthur looked around for Merlin. Gaius must have noticed his searching gaze. "Merlin's in his room, sire. Has been since yesterday. He refuses to come out."

Arthur furrowed his brow worriedly. He took a step forward, only for Hunith to stop him. "Let me, my lord."

Arthur nodded. "Of course." And stepped aside to let Hunith through.

XxX

Hunith knocked gently on Merlin's door but there was no answer. She went in anyhow, and closed the door behind her.

She found her son twisting in his bed, tangled in the blanket and crying. He was sleeping. She recognised a nightmare when she saw one.

Feeling no small amount of trepidation she quietly knelt by the bed and reaching a hand out lay it on his shoulder.

It woke him instantly. He shot up and seeing his mother next to him...

Hunith had seen that look on his face before. A tear feel from her eye before she even realised she'd begun to cry. She remembered this. And after all these years, Merlin remembered as well. Her chest hurt, but that was hardly a surprise. She took in a deep breath and attempting to spare her son any further pain she stood and quickly made her way to the door.

She knew the nightmare he was having. She remembered it well. And she knew the one thing he needed right now was space from her. So, heart breaking, Hunith made her way back into the main chamber and drying her face quickly she made her way over to the others.

"He's still sleeping. We should leave him to rest. Perhaps make some lunch, he'll be hungry when he wakes." The king and Gaius looked at her suspiciously but nevertheless Gaius showed her the cupboard with their food and bowls, and helped Hunith to prepare some lunch.

Arthur offered to find some food from the kitchens, and Hunith thanked him as he went to call a servant. In the end Gaius's chambers became full of people as the Queen and the King's closest knights came for lunch. They all ate somewhat solemnly. The knowledge that a member of their party was missing, and only a few feet away, downing their spirits. But Hunith appreciated the group's kindness, one of the knight's, Sir Gwaine, had even apologised for not looking after her son better. He'd began muttering about how he should have stopped anyone from taking Merlin, but Hunith just shook her head with a sad smile. If anyone at this table had reason to carry guilt, it was her.

Some time after the food had been eaten and the dishes taken away, Merlin finally ventured from his room. His expression held a stubborn determination in them.

She looked at her son hopefully and Merlin just stared at her. Wary and somewhat irritated. She knew her son though, Merlin was only irritated in himself. However unjust that may be.

"Merlin, why don't you sit down?" The Queen offered.

Sir Leon who was sitting next to Hunith began to move aside to make room for Merlin to sit next to her, but she grabbed his arm and shook her head. There was no need.

Merlin stared around at them all hesitantly before he lowered himself onto a stool at the bench next to the table. Not quite with them, which everyone took in with saddened faces.

No one spoke. No one knew what to say and so an awkward silence filled the room.

"You..." Merlin began looking at Hunith, pausing as though rethinking what he wanted to say, "You didn't have to leave... before." He tilted his head towards his room.

"Yes, I did." She replied with no hesitation. "I remember that nightmare Merlin. You didn't want my comfort for it when you were six, and I doubt that has changed." She kept her voice perfectly steady despite the sorrow she felt inside. Her words only served to make Merlin seem even more miserable. Everyone else just looked confused and even more concerned.

"You've been having nightmares?" The Queen- Gwen as she'd repeatedly insisted to Hunith- asked Merlin.

He shakily nodded, as though unsure of himself. Hunith looked at him. Really looked at him. She could see how tired he was, and if that was how he slept Hunith wasn't surprised. She thought back to Arthur's words. To his question, "Do you know what he fears most?" To everything the group had said during lunch about Merlin's unsettling behaviour. Everything that they had no explanation for. She did. She knew what was going on in her son's head, she was his mother after all. Of course she couldn't expect them to understand, Merlin never would've told them. And wasn't that the problem. She thought back to Kanen and telling Merlin to tell Arthur the truth. Hoping that her permission would ease the lifelong fear he had of people finding out. He'd gotten better at hiding it, better at dealing with it. But her son knew how to lie and she knew why he had learnt. She knew where it had all started and no matter how good Merlin was at keeping secrets and moving on now, she realised that at this point, there was no way Merlin could go on like this anymore. He was shaking. He couldn't sit with his friends, he struggled to properly look at them. He was breaking. And if she didn't end this now then he would truly break for good. He'd isolate himself. Never trust anyone, turn everyone away until he was ruined. And it would be her fault. She had to stop this.

"Merlin I think there's something you need to tell your friends." Merlin looked at her in confusion. She elaborated, "The thing about fear is until you face it, it will forever paralyse you. You have to prove those fears wrong, Merlin. You have to tell them the truth."

XxX

Merlin couldn't. He couldn't believe what he was hearing and he just couldn't. He couldn't tell of course he couldn't. They'd. They'd. Well he wasn't sure that the knights, that Arthur would react like that... But he'd seen it. Felt it. It had been so vivid. How could he believe that things would turn out any different.

She was his mother, why would she risk him like this? She couldn't know for sure they'd react well... unless... NO! He shook his head. That wasn't the truth it wasn't. That was just a fear. It wasn't real. His mother didn't want him dead.

"Tell us what?" He heard Arthur, dubious. Looking up, his mother was still just staring at him. He shook his head. He kept shaking it, he couldn't seem to stop now, he just had to get across that _nonononono_ he couldn't tell them, he _couldn't. _

"I don't understand." Gwen said. Others put in similar epithets. "Merlin's been having nightmares? Is that what he has to talk about?"

His mother hadn't looked away from him yet. "Shall I tell them something then?" She asked pleasantly as though they were having a conversation about flowers or chores.

Nononononono. He kept shaking his head.

His mother smiled sadly before turning to Gwen. "His nightmares? They are a part of it... He used to have them when was a child. It's been so long but... I find there's something about experiences you have as a child. No matter how much time passes, or how old you become. If the situation is right then, those emotions come back, and it's just like you're that child again. Helpless and afraid. And you can't do anything."

_Nonononononono._

"I do know Arthur, what my son is most afraid of. Many things since then would be on that list, and I've no doubt he saw them too. But there is one moment that... None of you know about."

_Nonononononononono. _Merlin's whole body was shaking now. "Mother, please..." He rasped, desperately.

"Merlin. If you're afraid of telling secrets, then the only way to stop being afraid is to tell." She said firmly.

_Nononononono._

"You're surrounded by friends, you can trust them."

_NONONONONONONONONO._

"Hey mate, with the head shaking, maybe for every sentence. I might get a bit insulted when it's just about trusting us." Gwaine pitched it, false levity in his voice.

_Nonononono. _Merlin still shook his head.

Gwaine furrowed his brow. "That wasn't a mistake, Sir Gwaine. He was disagreeing with that aswell. I'm afraid the idea of trusting his friends isn't one he's comfortable with."

"What is that supposed to mean? Merlin is incredibly trusting. He'll help anyone for goodness sake." Gwaine said, sounding a bit irritated at the turn of conversation.

"That's compassion not trust. Merlin hasn't been good at trust since I tried to kill him as a child."

The room was completely silent. This one brought around by shock instead of awkwardness. Merlin was still shaking his head, not so much out of disagreement as much as he wasn't sure anymore how to stop. He noticed Gwen make to stand and move over to him but he scooted away on instinct and she sat back down.

"What on earth are you talking about." Arthur asked angrily.

"It's a bit of a story. I can only tell it, if you all promise to be absolutely quiet. Not to interrupt, no matter what I say. No matter how much you will want to." Hunith said.

Everyone stared at her incredulously. They began nodding or giving quiet affirmations. Merlin had finally figured out to stop shaking his head and now just had to remember how to properly breathe.

"First of all you should know, that Merlin was born with magic."

Forget about breathing. He'd never manage it. He was never going to need to breathe again anyway. Arthur was going to kill him. Burn him on a pyre or run him through with a sword or throw him off a cliff or laugh as he choked on his own blood or chain him up and throw him in a river or- Any of the ways he'd seen repeatedly while he was with Morgana. There was no way Arthur could possibly react in any other way. Nope. Merlin didn't even need to bother relearning how to breathe.

He may have started shaking his head again, but he wasn't entirely sure. He wasn't sure of anything happening actually. It wasn't until his body forced him on pure instinct to force air back into his lungs that he realised his panic had jumbled his brain.

Suddenly sure of how to breathe again he looked at the table only to notice that no one had a sword drawn. No one was looking at him in hatred and no one had yet tried to kill him. Yet. Merlin was sure once the betrayal sank in the execution would start. That was what it was. Everyone was just too shocked. And shocked they were. No one was quite able to say anything. They stared at either Merlin or Hunith in utter incomprehension.

"Well, I'm glad you all understood my no interruption rule. In that case, I'll explain." She began. "I always loved Merlin. Since the day he was born, even before. That was never in question. However, as joyful as I wanted to feel when Merlin was born, and I did feel joyful at first, it was a pure sort of joy that isn't even explainable," She looked into the distance and her tone turned reminiscent. "I held him and I thought he was just perfect. But then he opened his eyes... and they were gold. They faded to blue soon enough but I knew what I'd seen. Within hours Merlin was levitating things about the house. His first few days were me frantically trying to prevent my belongings from uncertainly beginning to hover in the air. I knew immediately he had magic, and that joy- that joy was replaced by grief. My baby wasn't even dead but I remember being so sure that he already was. The purge was at its height and Uther wouldn't have let a border stop him, Ealdor was much too close to Camelot. Everyone was scared and everyone was suspicious. If anyone saw an infant using magic... well it wasn't supposed to even be possible. They would've told. If not Uther then another King or some power hungry wizard who'd be too curious. I- I had no idea what awaited Merlin in the world, but one unexpected visitor and everyone in Ealdor would know and then- then... well like I said, I was so sure my baby was already dead. Those first two days of his life I spent mourning him. I didn't let anyone in the house, not even the midwife. I couldn't. I couldn't even bring myself to name him. As much as I already loved him and giving him a name or not wouldn't change that, I just couldn't. It would be too permament as if I actually expected him to live and I didn't.

"When he was two days old I tried to kill my son for the first time." Hunith couldn't help but get choked up at that sentence, but she continued anyway. "I thought that it was a mercy really. He'd never have to grow up in this world that would hate him, and he'd only die more painfully later on one of Uther's pyres. This way... This way he wouldn't have to suffer I told myself. I held my pillow over his face and you know... his magic already tried to save him. Things started, not just hovering, but flying across the room. I'd have gone through with it but... suddenly this flock of birds appeared, flying through the window. Merlins. I knew his magic had called them somehow and I just- His magic- He didn't know what was going on and his magic didn't really either but it tried to do something and... I just couldn't do it anymore." His mother couldn't hold back her tears anymore. She was very openly crying. She took a few harsh breaths to gather herself as everyone else stared on in a horror induced fascination, the kind where you can't look away from a coming catastrophe.

When she gathered herself she continued, "I removed the pillow and hugged him and... he was still breathing thank the gods. I named him Merlin... for that... and I promised never to try and kill him again.

"But that only lasted until he was four. There was a battle between Camelot and Essetir and Camelot was winning. There was a time when Ealdor was a part of Camelot, briefly. I'd managed to tamp down my fear... I told Merlin to keep his magic a secret always. But... he was a child, barely even and a child that age they don't listen. They forget things very quickly. The second they get caught up in something warnings go out their ears for the sake of joy. And Merlin liked nothing more at the time than to play with his magic. He'd bring me home flowers all the time that bloomed the complete wrong season. He loved to make things fly and create pictures in the firepit and he was always coming home with some new animal that was absolutely enamoured with him." Hunith had a endearing smile on her face.

"It was impossible to get him to stop using magic. For the longest time he hadn't even realised that he was. It was so natural for him, he was two before he realised that he was doing anything at all. He asked me why his bowl floated to him but mine didn't do the same. He thought that was just how the world worked and hadn't realised he was doing anything at all. Even the flowers he loved so much he thought that was just how flowers grew, they appeared when you wanted them to. Even after he understood what magic was, he couldn't stop himself. He used to say to me, "But my magic wants to be free." And I couldn't quite understand, but it seemed so cruel everytime I had to tell him that it couldn't be. But no matter how cruel it was, it was less cruel then what any Camelot knight would do if they saw him using magic. And they were in the forests around the village now, so it wasn't safe for Merlin to play there anymore.

"The terror came back when the soldiers arrived. I knew Merlin wouldn't stop using magic, he didn't understand, but the knights wouldn't care. So I took him to a river in the forest and told him it was for a bath. But when he got in the water... I held him under and..."

Merlin remembered. He remembered the cold water suddenly seeming colder. How he couldn't get up. How his lungs ached for air. How his magic had raged in his chest to do something but he'd never hurt his mother and so it hadn't done anything. He remembered the terror and the desperation only too well. Had relived too often in his nightmares.

"He was thrashing about in the water, trying to get out. I knew he didn't understand what was happening..." She was choking up again on her tears.

She was right, he hadn't. He hadn't understood until much later. Too late.

"But the knights, I just kept thinking if they found him. They wouldn't see a child, they'd see a monster. They wouldn't care, they'd just think he was evil and then they'd drown him. And they'd hold him down just like that and when he desperately, helplessly-" She choked on another sob, "fought back, they wouldn't care. They'd drown my baby and they wouldn't care at all. And somehow it seemed better that at least I loved him and I did care that he wanted so desperately to breathe..." She was shaking with sobs, barely able to go on.

Merlin stood and went over to her, crouching by her side he put a one hand on her arm and another on her leg. Trying to comfort her. Everyone seemed startled to see him, as if in the midst of the story they'd forgotten he was still in the room. He didn't take notice of it for too long, his mother reached down and tugged him into a tight embrace. Crying onto the top of his head.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She whispered, but Merlin was sure everyone could hear.

She took a few more deep breaths before she continued through her tears. "I pulled him out in the end. He was so desperate and so helpless and I just couldn't..."

Merlin remembered being pulled out of the water much more vividly. The sharp sting of the brisk winter air. His mother's embrace usually so warm now just felt... cold. He was so confused and so scared and his own mother had just held him under the water and wouldn't let him up and he hadn't understood why and then she was hugging him and he didn't understand.

"I tried to explain but I couldn't... I just told him that he couldn't use his magic. That if others saw they'd think he was monster and drown him... I... I shouldn't have said it... he didn't... he had nightmares afterwards. Every night until I told him that the knights who wanted to drown him were gone. But even after that they continued for years. They mostly stopped after he was eight. But for those years... Afterwards he stopped bringing me flowers that were out of season and one day he came home with this big smile on his face and told me that there'd been a rabbit in the woods that wanted to come home with him and he hadn't used magic and left it there so... so I didn't have to drown him because he wasn't going to be a monster anymore..." She dissolved into sobs once more and Merlin simply sat there and let her hold him. He could think of nothing else to do. He could think of nothing to say to her. It wasn't alright. It hadn't been then and it wasn't now. He couldn't appease her conscience in that way. Even if he had long ago forgiven her.

His mother didn't say anything more. She just cried and everyone else appeared to understand that that was the end of her story, or at least, all she could say of it.

Looking up he saw Gwen run from the room, and heard Elyan and Leon quietly excuse themselves. The others sat mostly still in shock, although Percival and Gwaine, the latter cursing _bloody hell_ under his breath, made their way to the door not long after.

He looked at where Arthur had been sat on his mother's other side and realised that he must have left with the others at some point too.

Merlin wasn't panicking anymore. Or at least he didn't think he was. He wasn't sure whether he was sad or in shock or beyond fear or just tired. Maybe he felt too much or maybe he felt nothing at all. The only thing he was sure about was that nothing seemed entirely real. Somehow everyone knew about his magic and his childhood and it just didn't seem real that anything had happened.

"You should go Merlin." He heard his mother utter softly. He looked up in confusion. "You need to talk to your friends. Talk to Arthur."

And yes he needed to do that. And _nononono _he wanted to shake his head again. He didn't move, he just stared at her. She was probably right. He was pretty sure he couldn't think properly at the moment so maybe trusting his own judgement was a bad idea. He stood up and started to leave but he turned around.

"I don't blame you, you know. I forgave you a long time ago." He wanted her to know that.

She smiled sadly again. "I know. But how could you ever trust anyone if your own mother turned against you?" She asked.

And she was right. That was what had terrified him for so long. At the root of his fear of telling others. He had thought for years, that his mother had tried to kill him because of his magic. That she resented his magic. It wasn't until he was eight and she'd finally talked to him about it that he understood, she'd never hated him at all. But that fear... even with the best intentions his own mother had tried to kill him. And at that point, it had already become ingrained in him. He could never let anyone know, they'd kill him, they'd drown him. He was afraid of drowning. For so long. Even still he couldn't think about too long. He'd prefer a pyre.

He walked out the door and went to find Arthur. Hopefully Arthur wouldn't try and kill him. But he knew he had magic now so why wouldn't he? By his own law he was supposed to have Merlin executed. And Merlin had lied to him for so long that he was sure that Arthur hated him. Arthur would feel betrayed, of course he would. Just like Morgana and Agravaine and Gwen he would be another person who had lied to him. And the fear was there. He didn't want to die. Not really. But at least then, maybe he could sleep? He could never sleep anymore. Not after the nightmare came back.

It wasn't exactly what had happened, but a figment of what as a child he'd believed could have happened. In his nightmare, knights found out about his magic. They'd confronted his mother about it. Accused her of harbouring a sorcerer. They were going to drown him but they ordered her to do it instead. Show that she had repented of her crime. And she'd push him into the waterbarrel outside and hold him there. And he wouldn't be able to escape. And then his body would fall out into the dirt and his mother wouldn't care. His mother would be relieved that he was finally gone. She'd let them take his body away and she wouldn't cry a tear.

He'd wake up and his mother would try to soothe him every night. But he couldn't bear it, because she didn't care about him not really and she'd like it better if he died. He believed that for so long.

Now it was a bit different. The Teine Diaga had brought all that back. And his mother was right he did feel like a child again. But this time around it was Arthur who found out. He told him he was traitor. And out of all the ways Arthur had killed him during the Teine Diaga, the one that had remained in his nightmares was when he'd ordered his mother to drown him. He'd told her to_ 'right her wrong', _and, _'finish what she should have years ago.' 'It would have been a mercy to end his life when he was young.' 'Why let a monster like that breathe at all.' _

And then they'd pull his body out of the water and both walked away without a care. Leaving him to rot in the mud.

XxX

Arthur was beyond betrayed. He'd felt that at first. When Hunith had first said that Merlin had magic. Was born with it. Disbelief came first but she didn't recant it, didn't offer up some other explanation for saying something so... he'd felt betrayed. Merlin had magic. Had had it this whole time. And he'd never said anything?

But then he found out why. Why Merlin kept so many secrets. Why he lied. And he wanted to be sick. Hunith's words kept running around his mind and the pictures he'd imagined- He didn't know what Merlin had looked like as a child. But he imagined this tiny thing, all limbs and oversized ears and a stupid grin. He imagined this child growing flowers out of season and not realising that he'd done magic. He imagined animals following him home. It was so _Merlin._ But then he imagined that same child thrashing helplessing in a river trying desperately to save his own life. He could have died. His own mother could have killed him and Arthur might never have met him. Might never have gotten to know that obnoxious grin so well. All because he'd been born with magic. All because someone could have seen him do nothing more than innocently make a flower bloom and they would've thought him evil. And Arthur would've thought him evil.

Arthur remembered. He remembered too vividly that druid raid. When he'd drowned a child. Held them down as they desperately tried to save themselves. A child who'd done nothing except be born a druid. He'd done that. Had that child been Merlin... He wouldn't have even questioned it. And he wanted to be sick.

It wasn't alright. Nothing about that story was alright. That can't have been Merlin's childhood. Merlin was constantly happy. He couldn't have been terrified of his own mother, terrified of ever trusting anyone lest they turn on him and kill him, couldn't have been kept up everynight with nightmares of being drowned. Couldn't have grown up like that just because he liked to make flowers in the forest.

But as much as it didn't make sense at all, this past week suddenly made a lot more sense. If Merlin's past was darker than he knew then of course the Teine Diaga would've brought Merlin near breaking. Of course.

He hadn't been paying attention but he'd ended up on the battlements. His natural escape. The wind whipped fiercely up here but at least he felt like he could breathe. All the air, all the space, he wasn't suffocating anymore. Suffocating... like being underwater or having a pillow held over his head- and he was two days old damn it! Two days old! It wasn't right. It wasn't just.

He wanted so badly to believe in his father but there was no justification and Arthur didn't even try. No justification could make what Merlin had experienced okay. What Hunith had nearly done out of terror for her child was not and never could be just. His father's actions could never be explained away, not this time. And for the first time, Arthur felt like he could understand all those sorcerers who so badly wanted he and his father dead. The bitterness and the hatred. But if they'd experienced that same fear, for their own lives, for their loved ones... Their children! If magic wasn't a choice like it wasn't for Merlin... then... of course they were angry. Justifiably so.

He heard the door to the battlements open and whipped his head around. Standing hesistant in the doorway was Merlin, big ears, neckerchief and all but the smile and cheerful attitude he was supposed to have. But Arthur supposed that made sense now. How could he ask Merlin to be happy after what he went through. How had Merlin managed to be happy all these years anyway?

"Why?" He had to ask.

Merlin looked so unsure standing there. More like a lost puppy than ever. A very very sad, lost puppy. He shifted from foot to foot and shuffled closer, letting the wind blow the door closed. Merlin jumped at the bang. When he got a bit closer but still stood out of Arthur's reach he responded. "Why what?" He asked uncertainly.

"Why are you here? You must have been terrified of Camelot, why did you come? Why do you- why do you serve _me_?"

"My magic was getting too strong. I didn't know how to control it. Mother knew Gaius from... well a long time before and she thought that maybe he could help me."

He watched Arthur as one would watch a boar, with the utmost care in case it charged you. And Arthur supposed he couldn't blame Merlin for that. How many time had he told Merlin that magic and all who use it are evil? He wanted to punch himself.

"After I got here... Well I didn't like you much." Arthur snorted involuntarily at the memory. The feeling had been mutual back then. He wouldn't have thought if he'd found out then that Merlin was a sorcerer... That drained any humour away. "But then Lady Helen came, and I saved your life, because even if you were a bully that didn't mean you deserved to die. But then you belived me about Valiant, at least temporarily. And that plague hit and... I realised you did care about things other than your own pride. You care about your people. Someone had told me when I first arrived that you were going to be this great King and I'd laughed at them." Merlin still didn't smile, but his voice didn't sound so fearful, and reminiscence was the closest thing to positive that Arthur had seen on Merlin's face all week.

"But then you defied your own father to save my life with the mortaeus flower. And you killed a unicorn, but you were willing to die to free your people from the curse. In the end... I believed in you. I believed in the King you'd be, because I saw what you could become. What you already were. And you weren't your father."

Arthur didn't know what to say. All those things had happened so long ago. He didn't realise it had all ever meant so much to Merlin. He knew that Merlin always had faith in him, he'd missed that recently. But he'd never known until now where that faith had come from.

"I'm sorry. I truly am. I can't even. It was wrong. What you had to go through. And I'm sorry."

Merlin blinked at him in surprise. And the confusion. He tilted his head.

"You never told me and I get it. I never gave you reason to trust me. My kingdom must have the thing of your nightmares as a child."

"Arthur no." And it was the first time in two weeks that Arthur had heard Merlin sound like Merlin. His voice wasn't shaking and he didn't sound so damn scared.

"I didn't think you'd kill me. Not for a long time. Maybe somewhere, in some dark part of my mind there was a small fear that I might've been wrong. That there was always a chance. But that wasn't why I didn't tell you."

"Then why?"

"At first... you believed so much in your father and I didn't want to come between the two of you. I knew if you recognised his injustice you'd defy him. Or at least I hoped. But maybe you wouldn't want to go against your father. But then you were King and... Your father had just died and you blamed magic so I couldn't. I didn't want you to hate me." Merlin's voice became small. "And I was so sure you would. After Morgana; If someone you trusted said they had magic, you'd think I was going to end up like her and then Agravaine and Gwen... And I couldn't be just another person who betrayed you, I couldn't. But then, the- the- Teine Diaga and I- I was worried you wouldn't care about me anymore. All those fears weren't just in the back of my mind, but I saw them, and I couldn't stop thinking about them. I thought you'd drown me..." Arthur couldn't keep watching Merlin crying in front of him.

Ignoring the fact that Merlin flinched at contact these days, and that Arthur wasn't particularly a tactile person, Arthur stepped forward and hugged Merlin, because that was what Merlin needed just then. He felt Merlin stiffen but then after a moment relax.

"I don't hate you. I could never hate you. You didn't deserve any of that. And I was a blind prat who never should have listened to my father okay?" Arthur told him, ignoring how he heard his own voice break.

That was when Arthur truly felt all the tension leave Merlin's body as his friend collapsed into the embrace, hugging Arthur back.

"You're my friend and I'm sorry. And magic or no, I care about you. I wouldn't have stopped caring even if I was angry at you. I would've been angry because I cared and it hurt. Because I care about you Merlin and that's never going to change." After a moment of silence bar the wind and Merlin's muffled sobbing into his shoulder, "And of course I'll never repeat any of this again, and you are absolutely forbidden from telling anyone what I said." He heard a snort of laughter come from Merlin. At least he thought it was laughter. He hoped it was.

He pulled away so he could look at Merlin. Studying him. He was an absolute mess. Tears and snot and bags under his red eyes. Merlin needed a wash and food and a good night's sleep.

"Can't let anyone know you acted like a girl?" Merlin said. And his voice was quiet and a bit forced, but he was insulting Arthur and Arthur had never been happier in his life. He grinned like a maniac.

"I'm not the one crying like a girl." He threw back.

And Merlin smiled. Just a bit. A upturn of his lips, enough to suggest that for a moment he was actually happy.

"You don't want me dead?" Merlin questioned as though desperate for clarification.

Arthur stepped back and shook his head vehemently. "Of course not."

"You don't want my magic gone? You're okay with me, being magic?" Merlin asked hopefully, desperately.

Arthur sighed. "Merlin, I can't hate you for being as you were born to be. And I'd never want you to stop doing something that made you happy. And I was listening to your mother, magic makes you happy. You'd... play with it." He furrowed his brow, the notion of magic being a plaything still completely unreal. "I don't know about anything else, I really can't think about that right now. But you- Merlin you're not evil. And nothing you do could possibly be evil. I can believe that for you, magic is as innocent as you are."

Merlin smiled. Properly this time.

"But I have to make something clear." Arthur began in a firm voice. Merlin's smile tipped unsurely. "You said, to your mother before, that not doing magic meant that you weren't a monster?" It was Arthur's turn to be unsure. He really didn't want to talk about this. But he had to. He had to make sure that Merlin was really going to be alright.

"Yes?"

"You really believed that? That because you were born with magic you were a monster?"

Merlin nodded. "I asked Gaius the first day I came here actually. Even then I still... I didn't know why I had all this magic. There was no point. And everyone hated magic so much sometimes I'd think..."

"No. No, Merlin. You are no monster and you never were one and you'd better never think so again."

Merlin breathed in deeply. "I know. Or I knew. Before these weeks I knew. Everything got so muddled up in my fear, I don't think I thought I was a monster but I thought everyone would think I was one. But I haven't thought I was a monster in years. Because of you actually."

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked confused.

"When I met you. There was a point to my having magic. I saved you from Lady Helen, with it. And then I never really stopped. I don't know how many times I saved your life but... You were destined to be a Great King. And it was my job to make sure you lived long enough." Merlin finished with a slightly joking laugh. A breath of one at least.

Arthur didn't know what to say. He really needed to sleep. They both did. Looking out the sky he didn't understand how it could still be only mid afternoon.

"I need sleep. You need to sleep. We should talk but... I think we both need some time." Arthur said.

Merlin nodded in understanding.

But Arthur didn't quite want to leave on that note. He put his hands on Merlin's shoulders and said one last thing. "Thank you. For everything." He meant it, sincerely.

Merlin nodded again.

"Can you sleep? You won't have nightmares?" Arthur checked as they walked towards the door.

Merlin looked thoughtful for a moment and then shook his head. "They stopped when I was eight. When I understood that I didn't have to be afraid of my mother. They should stop again now, now that I realise I don't have to be afraid of you." Merlin told him tentatively.

Arthur nodded and with one last grip on Merlin shoulder, they both headed inside. First: sleep. Then, now that Arthur realised Merlin had only ever learned to lie, Arthur was determined to teach Merlin how to trust.

XxX

A/N: Ok, thank you all so much for the favourites and especially the kind people who reviewed!! I did upload this at 12:30 one morning because I couldn't sleep, so thank you ADraconicScribe for pointing out that there were a few typos, they should now be fixed.

As for continuing this was meant to be a one-shot, and I don't like dragging out storylines that aren't meant for long stories, because it kind of ruins the emotional impact of just telling what actually needs to be told. However, I had wanted to write in Gwen and the knights reactions they just didn't fit in with the flow of the story. So I will expand it into a two-shot, and give you some more reactions and aftermath, given just a little time.


	2. Friends, Brothers, Family

Gwen ran blinded through the corridors, unable to see through her tears. She thought maybe people called out behind her as she passed or tried to get her attention, but she couldn't quite hear.

"M'lady!" One girl cried out, going so far as to grab Gwen's arm to halt her mad dash through the castle. "What's happened?"

Gwen still couldn't quite see, but she could hear and she thought the blurry face matched the voice of Mary, another servant Gwen had always liked when they used to work together. Only a couple years younger than her, Gwen had taught Mary a lot when she first joined the castle staff.

When Gwen didn't respond Mary continued, "What's wrong?" And Gwen could see now the increasing worry on the girl's face.

"Everything." She said in a shaky voice. And of course everything was wrong; what a question! For how could anything be alright now?

"M'lady?" Mary exclaimed now seeming truly frightened.

It was only then that Gwen realised that everything wrong for a Queen could mean her marriage or an enemy at the gates or... well a long list of things she would actually rather were the problem at hand. She opened her mouth again to reassure the girl 'nothing was wrong'; And yes 'nothing' in the sense of the security of the citadel was wrong, but what she had just heard could not, in the wildest misinterpretations ever be labelled as 'nothing'.

She couldn't respond. She just couldn't. What words were there to say anyway. Her friend, Merlin, always there and willing to lend a hand or an ear, she'd known him longer than most here in Camelot. But she'd never known this... and wasn't that the point? Her friend, one of her best friends, had been unable to trust her and she hadn't even noticed. How in seven years could she not have noticed that something was terribly wrong with her friend?

She thought back to those days in Ealdor, all those years ago. She thought of that trip quite often recently, actually, usually in terms of Morgana. Her mistress had once been so impassioned about justice and full of compassion. She wasn't sure whether it was hurtful or balming to remember Morgana as she once was.

What she didn't think about much, was about Merlin's mother. She remembered liking Hunith that first time they'd met. And it was clear to see how devoted Merlin was to his mother and she'd questioned then why he'd left to go so far away from home. How could he have been? How did a child become devoted to a mother they had grown up in fear of? How could Merlin have feared his own mother? It didn't make any sense.

Hunith was a kind woman, she'd known that when they first met in Ealdor. She'd definitely known that when she'd stayed with Hunith during her exile. The woman was hard-working and patient and... she loved Merlin. Gwen could tell, she practically lived for the letters her son sent. How? It didn't make sense.

Because she knew that wasn't just some fear Merlin harboured, half-forgotten. It was what he feared most, what most had the capability to break him, what almost had. She thought about Merlin not sitting at the table with them, not sitting at the table with his own mother. She thought of the implications of Hunith's words, that Merlin was having nightmares (and now she knew, well of course he was) that she'd walked in one today, that she'd encountered them when he was a child. She thought about... It was so much more than just one tragic day at a river. That wasn't what had ingrained this fear so deep into Merlin's soul. He had relived it and relived it who knew how many times. His dreams no doubt perverting it and making it into something all the more horrible although Gwen couldn't fathom how it could get any more horrible.

But Merlin must have had these nightmares a lot, and been unable to seek comfort. For that's what Hunith had said. He hadn't wanted her comfort and of course not. But it haunted her... this image of a young Merlin, sitting alone and huddled in that tiny hut. Tired and scared and alone. No one there to comfort him but his own memories and nightmares.

"M'lady!" Mary interrupted her thoughts, shouting by now; Gwen shook her head and refocused on her surroundings.

"I'm sorry?" She asked, dazed.

It was at that moment that Elyan turned the corner.

"Sir Elyan!" Mary called out in a tone Gwen recognized as relief." Thank the Gods you're here, the Queen isn't alright, and she won't tell me what's wrong."

"I think there'd be something wrong if she were alright at a time like this." Elyan told the girl, unconcernedly. They were gathering quite the audience in the corridor between Mary's frantic shouting and the Queen's obvious distress.

"She could have killed him." Gwen whispered. The corridor was absolutely silent at that point, but Gwen stared fixedly at her brother. "He was a child, with no one else in the world-" Gwen knew Merlin didn't have a father. Knew from visiting his village he'd had but one friend. She wasn't sure he'd even met Will yet when he was four. Did Merlin know anyone, truly know anyone, asides from his mother. What with his magic she couldn't see Hunith letting him socialise much. The only person in the whole world he actually knew... "he could have died. For what?" Her voice rose a pitch at the end. Hysteria rising, a desperate monster in her lungs, closing its claws around her throat. She could barely breathe through it. "For what? What had he done? Breathe? Dare to exist? Dare to play? A child playing! How is that wrong? He could've- He was just... just a child." Her hysterical shouting that had begun to echo off the roof, reduced to barely more than a whisper towards the end.

Gwen thought that maybe Elyan may want to comfort her, hug her, but he seemed unsure of what to do. As shocked and disturbed by the situation as anyone.

"It was... it should never have happened." Was all Elyan could think of to say.

"Never have... Never have... oh Merlin-" On his name she choked on a sob. "Merlin."

"Merlin?" One of the onlookers spoke up. "I- Excuse me Sir Elyan, but what has happened? Merlin, he's alright isn't he?" Gwen looked towards the audibly concerned voice, an older woman, a seamstress. She liked Merlin. Everyone liked Merlin. Everyone-

Did they truly? _Of course_, was her immediate thought. But did he know? Surely- No. Merlin couldn't have been so well liked only to know underneath that everyone only liked a facade. If any of the people in this hallway knew he had magic would they still like him then? She didn't know? Merlin must have asked himself that before. How many times, Gwen wondered, just how many did Merlin walk these walls knowing he was surrounded by people who hated his very existence. Along the same paths as knights whose life's works were of eradicating magic, eradicating his very kind. Knights who'd probably teased Merlin and laughed good-naturedly at his clumsiness and endearing cheerfulness. Endearing, no one couldn't like Merlin. So how had they all simultaneously hated him?

Gwen had hated magic. For so long. Not at first no, and after her father she'd been more wary than anything. More scared of magic than hateful of it. But after Morgana... seeing what magic had done; she had hated magic. Merlin must've noticed. How could he not have? Merlin must have known, that his friend, the first friend he made in Camelot, despised a part of very being whilst laughing with him over Arthur.

She can't have... hated... Merlin? She can't have... hurt him. Can't have ensured that he would never trust her, never be able to be honest with her, his friend. Friend? How could she call herself that? Friends don't torture their friends with hatred and love at the same time.

She knew that Merlin was brave. And loyal. Faultlessly. But this... how could anyone live like this? Loving your best friends, giving everything for them, only to know that secretly they hate you. That in truth, you will never not be alone. There will never be anyone who won't think you a monster.

This castle hadn't liked him at all. How could he have loved them back? And loved them well? When they'd returned nothing but fears and inadequacies and reasons for distrust.

Gwen hated herself. And everyone here. They can't have unwittingly tortured a friend in isolation... and yet, they had.

"He should've hated us. Why did he not hate us?"

She understood now. Like never before, just how Morgana came to lose herself. The young woman so steadfast and kind. Morgana had forgotten herself, in lies and fear and betrayal. And who had she become? And how had that not happened to Merlin? He had been left alone and hated his entire life. Made to believe he was a monster for no reason other than simply being. His very being is an abomination in Camelot. How could he love them, and well? How could he not hate them? How was he not twisted against them as Morgana was?

"Was there anything at all that we did right? Oh please, to anything holy at all, tell me there was something we did for that poor boy that was right!" She was desperate. Because maybe then it was still alright that Merlin didn't hate them. Only she was pretty sure that he should.

XxX

Bloody hell. Bloody hell.

It just repeated like a mantra through Gwaine's head.

Bloody hell.

He had exactly one friend in the world. One friend. He'd thought surely, even he couldn't screw this up. And sure he'd made new friends since coming to Camelot, but all for Merlin. His best friend. But he'd failed him.

Bloody hell.

When Princess was sending out search parties when Merlin had been taken, Gwaine had signed up for everyone he possibly could. His friend had been in danger, going through who knew what. And now, now he knew and...

_bloody hell_

All he could think was that day when he'd first met Merlin in a tavern fight. There'd been alcohol, bad odds and some good old fashioned rumbling. Of course Gwaine had joined in. Merlin hadn't looked like much. Skinny, and what was he even doing in such a fight. But...

bloody hell

He had magic. That part, honestly, Gwaine was fine with. Alright so his friend had magic. Good for him. Except not good for him, because his own mother tried to kill him...

_bloody hell_

Twice.

XxX

Elyan was glad when he saw Leon, for he had no idea what to do. He wanted to comfort his sister, had done so often when they were young and woken up by nightmares. Who had comforted Merlin as a child? To imagine now his mother soothing him, perhaps from the very nightmares she'd given him... it just seemed so wrong.

Everything about this was wrong. That was the problem, how could he comfort Gwen? He couldn't tell her that it'll be alright, or that it's fine or that she shouldn't worry. Those were lies, audacious lies that to say such a thing for such a circumstance would be unfathomable. He couldn't tell her that it was just a dream, that it wasn't real, because it was, it was real. It was certainly real for Merlin, real when he was four and held under and- gods. Real when Morgana took him and tortured him with those very fears, those very memories, memories of his childhood and childhood should never be filled with such fears. It was real, too real, he couldn't deny it. He couldn't comfort his sister, not from this nightmare because this nightmare happened when you were awake.

But he thought that while Gwen's distress was perfectly understandable and in truth quite reasonable considering the situation, perhaps it would be best for the Queen to break down somewhere more private. Though perhaps it was already too late for that. Maids who'd stopped to see what the audience was for, twittered at each other or else watched in horrified fascination. The faces of all gathered a mix of curiosity, alarm and concern. He definitely should get Gwen out of here, so he was glad when he saw Leon.

"Leon! Could you help me here?" Elyan called for his fellow knight who'd walked into the adjacent corridor. Elyan noticed the widened eyes when Leon looked over and spotted the crowd surrounding a clearly distressed Gwen.

Gwen meanwhile was staring into the air, at nothing in particular, with a desperate look on her face. Elyan thought she may have still been waiting for a response to her last exclamation. "Was there anything at all that we did right? Oh please, to anything holy at all, tell me there was something we did for that poor boy that was right!" She needed an answer. Frankly Elyan did too.

XxX

Leon had always been fond of Merlin, if confused by him. The boy had always been an odd mystery. The first time Leon had ever paid much attention to the lad had been when the dragon had attacked Camelot. Night after night, there were so many dead and burned, the sky was so full of smoke that Leon had been sure it would never again clear. He'd been so terrified he could barely eat or sleep. He still had nightmares about it sometimes. But he was a knight and he'd sworn an oath to protect Camelot and her people, so he'd buried that fear and went with his Prince to face the dragon. And Merlin had come too. It had puzzled him more than a little at the time, sure that he was going to see the lad burned to a crisp before the night was out. But morning came, the dragon was dead, and he and Merlin were still alive. Merlin was just a servant, he'd sworn no oaths, had no expectation of being there. Arthur hadn't even been about to hold the knights accountable for not fighting the beast, he couldn't see him forcing his servant to come along.

What had puzzled him while riding out, mystified him greatly as time passed. Merlin went places he was under no obligation to go: patrols, battles, missions. The man never stayed behind, never ran away. Arthur joked that he hid and cowered during battles but that had somehow never seemed quite right. The Merlin Leon knew was brave, braver than he'd ever imagined anyone, let alone a servant, could be.

And with the magic that almost made sense. If he wasn't as helpless as he'd seemed, if he was more capable of defending himself than any of them had known, then maybe it hadn't been as much of a risk. Or at least, no more than for all the rest of them. But that didn't mean it made sense. Because okay, his bravery was a little less reckless than Leon had understood it to be, but if Merlin had magic then what the hell was he doing in Camelot? It made no sense at all. Who grows up with magic, terrified of others finding out about it, and decides to go live in a kingdom that persecutes your kind? And on top of that, decide to get a job in the royal household and not even stick to duties of wardrobe and meals but to risk your life again and again for the Prince of the very kingdom that would have your head?

Leon didn't doubt for a moment that Merlin indeed had been as loyal to Arthur as he'd always shown himself to be. He'd been astounded when those words "_Merlin was born with magic._" Were uttered by the man's mother, but when she'd gone on... well suffice it to say that there was no way that after that story Leon was going to condemn Merlin simply for having magic. No way at all. Even the thought was abhorrent, completely ignoble, and Leon was not going to think about those specifics any further... it just didn't bear contemplation.

But if Merlin was good and magic didn't make someone evil, but the entire Kingdom treated him as if he were a creature of nightmares - which was literal for many children growing up in Camelot - then why, _why, _would Merlin decide to risk his life again and again and _again_ for them. For Arthur. It didn't make sense.

It still didn't make sense when Leon heard Elyan call out to him for help. He'd not had any idea where he was going, so had to look around to place himself. Guinevere was standing, broken, her eyes glazed with grief and desperation, and around her a mob of servants, even a few nobles, who were all eager to hear what had happened to distress the Queen so.

He knew immediately that Guinevere could not stay where she was. He strode forward briskly and found himself quite glad that the he had something real and physical to focus on. None of these bodiless philosophical dilemmas, Leon was a man of sinew and sword, he understood physicalities. He was a knight and a he had job to do, and that grounded him.

He gently grabbed Guinevere's elbow to escort her away, the people stepping to the sides to allow them through. He didn't believe that Guinevere had any clue what was happening around her, if she'd noticed that Leon was taking her away. But nevertheless, Leon muttered comforting words and guided Guinever to her chambers where she could put herself back together in private.

XxX

Despite it being early afternoon, there's something about emotional distress that makes napping quite easy, thus Arthur was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

He found himself in an unwelcome yet familiar place. The druid camp. It wasn't a rare dream, especially recently with the incident of Elyan being possessed. However this time something was different.

Merlin stood there in front of him. 'What are you doing here?' He wanted to ask him. He couldn't quite recall but it didn't seem right that Merlin was at this raid. Hadn't he just seen Merlin head off towards his own quarters? But Merlin just stared at him and he couldn't seem to find the words.

He could see red around him. The red of blood, but also, the red of capes. He looked down and saw his own cape, the embroidered golden dragon on the shoulder on a field of red. He looked back at Merlin only to notice the fear- no terror that had now entered the other man's eyes.

He wanted to ask 'What's wrong', but once again the words didn't form. But he was striding forward and Merlin was getting... smaller?

He gripped the collar of Merlin's tunic and dragged him over to the well. He wanted to scream, he wanted to shout. 'This isn't right!' But Merlin, now a child not even reaching his knee didn't say anything. He just stared at Arthur in horror, helpless as Arthur dragged him to his doom.

'Stop this' He wanted to say. 'Save yourself.' But Merlin did nothing.

In seconds Arthur had hauled Merlin up to the lip of the well but he paused before pushing the boy, holding onto his tunic, Merlin precariously balanced between life and death.

"Kill the monster." He heard a voice hiss behind him. He turned around to see no one there but when he looked back at the well, his father was standing behind Merlin. "Drown him." His father ordered. "It's a mercy."

Merlin wasn't sat between the two for long, for at his father's words he pushed the boy in, getting one last glance at the boys face before he went under: it wasn't fear he saw exactly. Not the mere fright of a child in this massacre, nor the timidity that had seemed characterised due to the boy's lack of speech. But betrayal, that of a yearning forsaken.

Just for a moment and then he was under and Arthur was holding him down. The child's limbs flailed, and he remembered this. This was right; he'd gotten splashed in the boy's desperate attempts to breathe. He felt the resistance against his hands as the boy tried to push his head back above the water, only to be met by a harsher shove downwards.

He longed for the moment to end. That he could stop finally, he could stop fighting the boy for life and death. But when he stopped, he felt the exact second the boy stilled under his hands, it felt like he'd been socked in the stomach. A fierce uppercut that caught his diaphragm and made his breathing spasm. Because the boy wasn't breathing. He was still. Just floating there, Arthur's hand still on his head.

He just stared at the well. At the tiny circle of inky hair barely noticeable in the murky depths if not for the bright blue and red he wore. Just floating there, not moving. The wrongness of it struck Arthur the most. In the sudden silence of the battle, the disppearence of his sneering father. It seemed more fitting if the boy simply sunk down into the depths. Forgotten and abandoned.

But instead Arthur's arms moved once more without his permission, gripping the boy's tunic and hauling him out of the water. 'This didn't happen' he thought.

He didn't even hold onto the boy, just pulled him to the lip of the well and then let his corpse fall down into the dirt. And he remembered. It wasn't the druid boy, he'd never known. An innocent life he had no knowledge or right with which to judge, but had judged anyway wasn't worth living.

The boy lying in the dirt at his feet had big ears and a red neckerchief and was paler than even he should've been. Merlin. It had been Merlin in the water, he'd practically forgotten.

If the boy's sudden cessation in the water had been an uppercut to his stomach, then this sight was a blade right through his heart.

Because Merlin- wasn't breathing and that was wrong. Just plain wrong. He wasn't moving. He was never not moving. Merlin was always talking and bouncing and running about and laughing and knocking things over. The man had no grace, no capacity to be- still. Still as the dead.

Arthur no longer wanted to scream. He wanted to be sick. To cry into the sky how sorry he was. That he hadn't meant to- hadn't meant to- he didn't know why he couldn't stop. He wanted to kneel over the dead body of his friend and beg for a forgiveness that could never be granted. He wanted to curl up and sob until he too was dead, and it would be no less than he deserved.

But his feet were already leading him away. He couldn't stop looking back at Merlin's body left alone in an empty clearing with nothing but a well.

He saw a wolf edge slowly from the bushes towards the boy as a rat ran over his corpse. Arthur wanted to fight them away with his sword. He woke up instead.

XxX

He had to find Merlin. Arthur didn't think he'd slept for very long, and Merlin had surely barely laid down himself, but it didn't matter. Arthur had to find Merlin, he needed to see Merlin alive. It was the only way, he knew, that he would be able to banish the image of his tiny dead body. Drowned, lifeless, a wolf about to eat his helpless, abandoned corpse- no. He had to stop thinking about that image. That last thing he saw but he was certain nothing would ever get rid of it. The image of Merlin, because everything about that child was so very Merlin and it hurt, lifeless.

Arthur shook his head- no. Merlin is alive, he told himself. He grew up, he lived long enough to become a man, a man full of life. 'And what a miracle that was?' The thought danced into his mind. He shook it away, noticing that his hands were now shaking, hands, hands that just held down suffocated he needed to breathe it was Merlin and hecouldn'tbreathedamnit. What a miracle it was that the boy had ever breathed long enough at all. That his own mother hadn't cut it all short, that Arthur hadn't cut it all short- just like that druid boy. Had the druid boy too grown up in fear? Too, not chosen magic but simply had it? Had he even had any at all? Perhaps it was merely his parents who were druids. And if so and even if not so, what did it matter? The boy had been breathing and that had been the problem so Arthur had made sure that he'd stopped. The problem. Merlin breathing was not the problem. The idea that Merlin ever wouldn't- no.

He could not think of that; He could not think of that. Merlin was fine, he just had to find Merlin because Merlin was fine.

XxX

Elyan was sure he should follow Leon and Gwen, she was his sister and he still had yet to find the words to comfort her. But he knew that he had to. However while they had allowed the Queen to pass the crowd had not broken up and all stood there asking each other 'what was going on' and 'what had put the Queen in such a state'. Elyan knew he had to handle their questions, this at least he did have words for.

"Mary." He started, easier to address one person than a whole mob, and he knew Mary, she and Gwen got on well.

"Sir Elyan, what has happened, what has distressed m'lady so?"

"It has something to do with Merlin doesn't it? I heard the Queen say something about Merlin." Margaret from the kitchens piped up.

"Merlin? Is the lad alright?"

"What could have happened to the King's servant that would have the Queen in such a state?" A Lord's incredulous tone asked.

Louder this time so everyone would quiet down, Elyan tried again. "Excuse me." When a hush had fallen over the group, Elyan continued in as firm and business like a tone as he could manage. Now was not the time to be emotional. "As you all know Merlin was rescued from Morgana some weeks ago, and he has been recovering slowly. Some... aspects of that week with Morgana were brought to light today. The news was distressing to say the least, however nothing has at present happened to Merlin. As far as I am aware he is safe in his chambers." _Safe. _Safe in a kingdom that's laws demand he be burnt at the stake.

"What could have happened to him then? The Queen was utterly distraught."

"The details are a private matter, and I could hardly begin telling the whole castle about them." Elyan told them all firmly. Merlin had been through enough as far as he was concerned, he definitely didn't need his privacy violated too. And certainly not by sharing secrets that were the very reason for his fears in the place.

"If you could all please go back to your work, there is no emergency, and no reason to stand around in a corridor all afternoon." Elyan ordered, he really needed to get out of there.

He needed to find his sister, althought actually, he may get some fresh air first. The castle was feeling quite suffocating, suffocating... no. He definitely needed fresh air.

XxX

Percival couldn't stop clenching his fists. He liked Merlin. Everyone liked Merlin. Lancelot had liked Merlin. It hurt to remember Lance, a pang of grief still stabbed his heart everytime. But he remembered when he'd first met Lance, before they became knights, the man had talked about Merlin quite a lot. Percival hadn't understood why Lancelot spoke so highly of this servant. The stories made him sound brave and kind absolutely, but Percival hadn't understood what it was about this one man that had stuck in Lancelot's mind.

But then he'd met Merlin. And he was brave, braver than the stories. He came with them into a castle filled with enemies to recapture it from a witch, he'd faced the dorocha with them, he'd offered to be chased by soldiers, back when Caerleon had invaded, to lead them into an ambush. _Offered_, because he was brave. And he was kind, kinder than the stories. He didn't just help anyone, he helped everyone. Percival loved to wander the market and spend time with the townspeople, and there wasn't a one of them who didn't have cause to be grateful to Merlin for one thing or another. For bringing extra firewood during winter, helping cure a loved one, offering food during hard times, being a listening ear and a comforting shoulder to whichever poor soul he came across that day. And he forgave the knights too, for Lamia. He forgave so readily, when Percival still hadn't forgiven himself.

Because Merlin was their brother. Their little brother. He had the kindest heart and the bravest soul, and he was more loyal to Arthur than anyone. That loyalty, the knights had discussed many times, would get him killed one day. Percival had heard stories of Merlin drinking poison for Arthur. It seemed just the sort of thing he'd do. Kind and selfless and loyal. Noble, more noble than half the nobility Percival had met, that was the kind of man Merlin was. Percival understood what it was about Merlin that was so memorable. It wasn't any one thing, the man was just... good. Good for the sake of being good, not wanting any reward or recompense. He just wanted everyone around him that he loved to be happy. Percival could respect that.

And for that reason Percival knew he was supposed to protect Merlin. Because Merlin was a good man but he was hopeless with a sword and too loyal and brave for his own good, always following them into danger. The knights had all discussed and all agreed that Merlin had to be protected. He was their little brother and they were supposed to look after him.

That was what hurt so much. That was what made Percival clench his fists and grit his teeth and want to draw his sword and do something. But there was no monster to fight to protect his brother. Because the problem was that people thought Merlin was the monster. Good Merlin, kind, brave, loyal, selfless Merlin. Merlin who'd help anyone and everyone and drank poison for the Prince of a Kingdom who'd have him killed, and had crept into the hearts of everyone who knew him and stuck in their memories because there was something about the man and his wide grin and his golden heart that didn't leave you, even after you left him.

Merlin was no monster. Merlin had thought he was a monster. He had nearly drowned as a child, by his own _mother_, not because she thought her son a monster, but because she knew the world did, that the world was so full of hate and fear that it would condemn a child to a watery grave. You couldn't know Merlin and hate him. But if you never knew him... then you'd never know. And Percival might've never known that golden heart and wide grin and how he'd help anyone and everyone and drink poison for a Prince whose Kingdom would see him dead. He couldn't stand the thought that his brother would've died before Percival had known any of that.

Died, helpless and vulnerable and incapable of defending himself. Which was truly where the despair turned into rage. Because he was two days old and then he was four years old and he couldn't protect himself. He couldn't save himself from his own mother, left defenseless to her whims, to the cruelty of the world. No one there to protect him. No one there to save him. No one there to save a child who was helpless but had a golden heart and a wide grin and would help anyone and everyone. A child who one day, despite his own nightmares would drink poison for a Prince whose father had destroyed his childhood.

Percival had to hit something. If there was no monster to fight, if he couldn't fight the whole cruel world, then he would destroy every training dummy they had.

XxX

"Do you think Merlin was ever happy here?" Guinevere asked.

She was sat down in her chambers, in privacy at last and had seemed to have at least gotten herself under control. She was no longer shouting, she just seemed... mellow. Lost and hurt and confused. In the time that had passed her distress had turned into something quieter.

"I think so." Leon answered. "I think he must have been. He surely would've left otherwise." And why didn't he? Leon still couldn't answer that question, in the hours that had passed he was no closer. But Merlin had laughed and... Leon and the other knights, they got along well with Merlin. He came with them everywhere, they practically saw him as their little brother.

"Would he have?" Guinevere asked, her voice honestly unsure. "I always thought there'd be nothing that could make Merlin leave Arthur's side."

Leon could not help but feel that the Queen was exactly right. For that was Merlin's character: Undying loyalty. The boy would never have left Arthur alone for anything even if... even if he was unhappy?

"It is true he followed us everywhere. He always was one to never leave his friends behind."

"His friends? If we even deserve that title, I can't think that we upheld it." Guinevere muttered, tears slipping silently down her cheeks.

Leon was sure that, once again, the Queen was absolutely right.

XxX

Gwaine had been alone on the training grounds, and he hadn't expected any company. When Percival arrived, he barely acknowledged the fellow knight, continuing to hack at training dummies that had long ago lost the shape of people.

"Didn't save any for me?" He heard Percival growl behind him in barely restrained anger.

"My apologies. Hadn't realised someone else would be needing them." Gwaine said turning around, with customary wide grin on his face. "I had to hit something." He confessed, his false grin slipping.

"Me aswell." Percival muttered.

"It's just not fair, I mean, _bloody hell, _it's, well it's _Merlin_." Gwaine tried to say. But whatever butchered meaning he'd been trying to get across must have made it as Percival solemnly nodded in reply.

"My family was killed." Percival said into the silence. Gwaine stopped short. "I don't talk about it but... I had a brother. Once. I failed to protect him." An uneasy feeling spread in Gwaine's stomach, one of sympathetic guilt when he realised where this story was headed. "He- He was like my little brother... I swore to protect Merlin, I swore that I wouldn't fail him too."

It was Gwaine's turn to nod solemnly, although his perhaps was more despondent.

"That is the sort of story one does not think about sober. If there are no more training dummies to hit, then perhaps we shall merely have to content ourselves with smashing tankards and the blissful obliviousness of drunkenness."

The look in Percival's eye, Gwaine knew that this once, his desire for the tavern was shared.

XxX

Arthur crashed into the physician's chambers, and looked frantically around for Merlin. He had to find _hehadtofindMerlin. _

But all he saw was Gaius and Hunith sitting at the bench, still covered in plates for the lunch that they'd never finished, staring at him, startled by his entrance.

"Where's Merlin?"

"In his room. He's resting-" Gaius began, getting to his feet, but Arthur didn't stay to listen. He raced up the small staircase towards Merlin's cupboard of a room and slammed that door open too.

"Sire!" He heard yelled behind him, but he paid no attention.

He only had eyes for the lanky form of his servant, stretched out in his bed, eyes suddenly blinking open as he jumped into the air at the sound.

"Sorry." Arthur said into the room, unsure if he even said loud enough to be heard or what he was apologising for. For waking him or for dreaming of drowning him or for never making Merlin feel as safe in Camelot as he should have done.

"Arthur? It's only- what are you doing?" Merlin asked, clumsily sitting up and taking in the situation hazily: The sun barely any lower in the sky than it had been when he'd been sent to bed and a frantic King in his doorway.

"Sorry." Arthur just repeated. He wasn't sure what else he could say. "I just- just had to see- that you're okay." Arthur shuffled his feet once he'd said it, suddenly embarrassed. "I shouldn't have woken you, I'll just- go."

As Arthur turned to leave, Merlin spoke up. "No, don't. You can stay."

Arthur looked back at his friend, and was unable to look away. Merlin was so pale. He always had been but at the same time all Arthur could see was the tiny lifeless and _pale _form of the drowned Merlin in his dream. Arthur didn't want to leave Merlin's side yet, so he nodded and closed the door behind him as he sat down on a stool next to Merlin's bed, head in his hands.

After a beat of silence, Merlin spoke up once more. "Arthur, what happened? An hour can't have even passed yet..." He let the question linger, hanging in the air.

Arthur looked up at his friend. "I had a dream. It was the druid camp, only... only this time the child was... was you. And I- I held you down in the well..." He could barely get the words out but he saw when Merlin's eyes widened with understanding and knew he could stop.

"Oh." Was all that Merlin said.

The two men looked away from each other, staring awkwardly at their own hands in silence. Neither knowing what to say.

"I'm sorry."

"You keep saying that." The smile on Merlin's face was forced and fragile, his attempt at teasing falling flat.

"I thought Camelot was your home like it was mine."

"It is." Merlin interrupted.

But Arthur wouldn't hear it. "No it isn't. You were never safe here, never accepted, that's not a home."

He saw Merlin twist his mouth trying to think of an answer. "Then maybe it shouldn't have, but Camelot did feel like home."

"How?" How could his ever cheery friend have decided that the kingdom in which he'd be burnt at the stake for being, where the fact he breathed was a problem, that such a kingdom could feel like home?

"You were here. And Guinevere and the knights. And you're my friends." Oh, how Arthur wished that were true.

"We were never your friends, we never acted like ones."

Arthur was taken by surprise at the sudden movement as Merlin lurched forward, his face openly brimming with hurt, fear and anger. Merlin grabbed Arthur's wrists as he said in a strained voice. "Don't you dare. Don't you dare say we weren't friends, do you think that helps! Do you have any idea how much it meant to me when you finally admitted that you were my friend? When you finally stopped pretending that I was just a servant? You have idea how happy I was! I have spent years in Camelot, as your _friend_, because you're mine, and you do not get to deny that."

Arthur stared at Merlin in horror. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"You said that the magic didn't matter. That you cared about me. So don't, don't you dare turn around deny our friendship like it didn't matter, like it doesn't matter. You do not get to throw it away, to push me aside because you're feeling guilty."

"I don't want to- Merlin I never want you to leave my side, I don't want to push you away."

Merlin seemed to relax at that, looking at Arthur intently for a moment before he released his grip on Arthur's wrists and moved back onto his bed and out of Arthur's space.

"Merlin that's not what I meant. I do care about you. And I don't care about the magic. It's just- You were the best friend I could ever have possibly had. And I wasn't the same to you."

"Of course you were, Arthur."

"I wasn't. If I was, you would have known that you could tell me about your magic. It's my laws that condemn you, me that condemns you. I never made sure that you knew you could trust me. I just took it for granted that you did, and never even realised. You deserve to feel safe here. I'm going to make sure that you do."

Merlin didn't reply. The two friends just stared at each other, in silence, but somehow communicating anyway. _You're my friend, it's alright, you can trust me, I'll make it right._

XxX

Elyan was wandering aimlessly through the lower town, too lost in his thoughts to notice his surroundings.

His thoughtfulness however was broken by a sudden shout and the flung body of a man out of a tavern door. Elyan barely managed to avoid Percival's bulk as he came tumbling out after Gwaine.

"What has happened to the two of you?" Elyan exclaimed, taking in their appearance. The glazed eyes, the rumpled clothing, the flushed faces, the fresh bruise on Percival's cheek and Gwaine's new split lip.

"Those bas'ards jus' don' understand to leave a man's drink well enough alone." Gwaine slurred out.

"Is now really a good time to be getting into a tavern brawl Gwaine?"

"Course it is. What else am I s'posed to do? Sit 'round and think 'bout Merlin." His slurring lowering into despondency.

Elyan sighed. Of course, he should have realised that Gwaine wouldn't handle this situation sober.

"You two need to see Gaius." Elyan decided, stepping forward to help drag Gwaine back to the castle. He hooked Gwaine's arm around his shoulders and set off. Looking back he saw Percival slowly stumbling after them, his bulk meaning that he wasn't as affected by the alcohol as Gwaine and was able at least to hold himself upright.

Except that Elyan kind of wished Percival had been able to experience the same level of inebriation at least this one time, gods knew Elyan wouldn't have minded forgetting this whole day for a couple of hours.

XxX

Merlin wasn't sure what to say to Arthur. He'd barely been awake a few minutes and his heart already hurt. He'd been terrified that Arthur finding out about his magic would mean losing whatever friendship they had managed to form between all the lies and deceit. He couldn't listen to Arthur say that they'd never been friends. But then Arthur had gone and vowed that he'd protect Merlin, and the pain around his heart that had been crushing, causing tears to come to eyes, had lessened and released. He blinked the tears away and breathed.

_I'm your friend. It's alright. You can trust me._

Merlin understood what they were saying to each other, except it seemed all too surreal. He had magic, and Arthur knew, and they were friends.

He wished he could trust Arthur, he wished he had. But how many times had Arthur told him how all magic was _pure evil. _And what did Arthur believe now?

_I believe that for you, magic is as innocent as you are._

What did that even mean? Was magic evil, not? Was Merlin just some exception? Would anything really change? And that was it really, because Merlin could trust that Arthur wouldn't hurt him, wouldn't burn him or drown him. But what about everyone else? What about the law?

"Can I show you something?" Merlin asked tentatively.

"Show me what?"

Merlin looked around the room. He didn't have much. There were some candles in the corner maybe, or... He could feel his heart speed up.

"What is it, Merlin?" Arthur asked, when nothing happened.

"I'm trying to trust you." Merlin glanced at Arthur to see him inch forward, wide-eyed and expectant.

"You can trust me." Arthur added after a moment of silence.

_Can I? _"It's just..."

"What?"

_Not the same. _"Different.

"What's different?"

_Seeing me and seeing magic. _"Do you trust me?"

"Of course." Arthur answered without hesitation.

_I wish I could trust you. _"Under my bed..."

Arthur leaned down and looked under briefly before looking back at Merlin, confused.

_What would you see. Would you still see me? _"There's a floorboard... it's loose."

Arthur furrowed his brow, but ducked down again until he was kneeling on the floor. Merlin could hear him testing the boards. His hands started to shake. He heard Arthur moving back out from under the bed.

_It's different when it's seeing it right in front of you. _

"What is this?" In one hand Arthur held a staff topped with a blue crystal, in the other a frayed book.

_My lies. My magic. _"My spellbook."

Arthur brows shot up. "Oh." He stared at the tome.

_Look at me. See me, please. _"And the staff belonged to a sidhe."

"A sidhe?"

_Magic, and it tried to kill you. Evil. _"A fairy."

"I see."

_See what? Me or magic. See what? _Merlin couldn't breathe.

Arthur sat back down. He placed the staff on the ground and opened the book on his lap.

"What does this say?"

_Evil according to you. _"Spells."

"Well, obviously." Arthur drawled. "But the language, I don't know it."

_Are you uncomfortable? With magic, with me? _"Well, that page is talking about the elements. Earth, air, fire, water. I can... I can show you... if you like?"

Arthur took a quick breath. "Show me?"

_Is magic only okay in abstract? Is it still okay when you can see it, there right in front of you? _Merlin nodded, still waiting for an answer.

_Can I trust you?_

And maybe Arthur did hear that last thought, because he firmed his jaw and raised his chin, determined. He nodded. "Show me."

Merlin's eyes flicked to the candles in the corner and with a golden flash of his eyes they ignited. He heard another intake of breath behind him and looked back at Arthur. His eyes glowed again, the flames floating over to sit in the air between them.

"_Upastige draca." _Merlin whispered, the flames coalesced into the image of a dragon. Behind the brand of his loyalty, he could see Arthur, sitting tense, his jaw clenched, staring at Merlin.

_Do you still trust me? _"Arthur?"

Arthur stared. At him? At the dragon? Merlin wasn't sure.

_What are you seeing? Do you see me? _

The dragon faded, the flames flickering away.

Merlin sighed. He gulped down a sob. He was going to break the silence when a crash sounded, as the door to Gaius's chambers was thrown open.

XxX

At the crash of the door, Arthur leapt to his feet and made his way to the main room. The sight that greeted him was of Gwaine stumbling into a chair and falling to the ground, Elyan and Percival entering behind him, Gaius rushing over towards Gwaine, and Hunith having stood up from the table, standing awkwardly as she watched the scene.

Arthur had to look away from Hunith. Focusing on the commotion the evidently drunk Gwaine was making, he headed towards them.

"I'm abs'lutely in functional order, Gaius. That chair go' in my way s'all. El-yan's worried you over nothing." Gwaine slurred.

"I saw you an hour ago Gwaine, how can you be so drunk?" Merlin voice sounded behind him, exasperation clear in his tone.

Arthur turned to see that Merlin had followed him into the room.

"Eight tankards in that hour will do it." Percival explained.

"Eight?!" Merlin exclaimed before turning to Gaius, "Is he even going to be alright?"

"I should think so, he's always managed before."

"Eight in an hour. It's a wonder he's even awake." Merlin kept on, shaking his head.

"Yeah well, s'long as I don't drown in it." Gwaine cut in.

The room quickly became silent.

Arthur saw the bob of Merlin's adam's apple before he spoke up, "This is because of... me."

"For Gwaine, this actually should be the least surprising reaction." Elyan said. "Frankly I don't think any of us knows how to react."

Arthur could sympathise.

The door opened for a second time, in a quieter and more decorous fashion, to allow Gwen and Leon entrance to the room. They looked around, startled at how many were there until Gwen's eyes landed on Merlin.

"Merlin. We wanted to see how you were doing. It seems we weren't the only ones..."

At this, Elyan spoke up, "I was bringing Gwaine here after his trip to the tavern before he got himself arrested."

"Worse things could 'appen." Gwaine said, bringing everyone back to silence.

"This is ridiculous." Merlin announced. "Why are you all acting like this?"

Everyone just stared at him in astonishment. However, much to Arthur's surprise, it was Leon who first found his voice.

"You're like our little brother Merlin. And despite... recent developments," _Magic, _Arthur's mind supplied. "You may have been better at protecting yourself than we knew of, but, we all agreed to look after you. We discussed it." Arthur looked back at Merlin, to see his face showing nothing but incredulity. "You follow us everywhere, no armour, no training, we weren't going to let anything happen to you. To know that, you were hurt and had no one to protect you, that you couldn't protect yourself..." Leon trailed off, Merlin's eyes widened.

"But I have magic. Doesn't that matter to you?"

"Merlin you could've died. We might never have met you. You were a defenseless child, that's what matters to us!" Gwen said.

"But- I-"

Seeing Merlin try to formulate words, Arthur thought back to that moment in his room just before everyone interrupted.

_I'm trying to trust you.__My spellbook.__Show me._Merlin had lied for years. Arthur knew that, he knew that Merlin was afraid. He knew that Merlin thought people would hate him, they'd always hated magic, wouldn't they continue to do so?

He thought back to that moment, Merlin's eyes had glowed gold as his tongue formed words Arthur didn't think it should ever have known how to form and a dragon made of fire sat between them.

Magic. Merlin had magic. He'd heard the words, thought of them, but abstractly. It had been different to see it, real and undeniable, right in front of his eyes. It hadn't seemed right. He'd seen eyes glow gold on enemies, usually before Arthur went flying through the air and woke up with a sore head and a sore back. The picture didn't look right on Merlin.

He couldn't deny he'd been uncomfortable in the room, relieved to hear the crash of the door, to not have to think about what he was seeing and feeling about his own friend.

But that didn't matter. He knew that, and Gwen knew it as well, clearly. What did it matter if they were uncomfortable, when Merlin was afraid and had been his whole life.

_You deserve to feel safe here. I'm going to make sure that you do. _

But how could he feel safe, accepted, like this was his home too, if they felt uncomfortable and visibly so. For it must have been visible, the look on Merlin's face just before Gwaine came crashing in, resignation, hopelessness, disappointment. Arthur had failed his promise to Merlin already.

He couldn't do so again.

"You're magic, Merlin. And that does mean something. But it does not change who you are, not in my eyes. To know that I've failed you, that we've all failed you... that matters because that does change things." Arthur told him, looking Merlin in the eye as sincerely and solemnly as he could. He had to show he meant it.

"You haven't failed me." He insisted.

"Of course we have Merlin. We were supposed to be your friends and we never showed you you could trust us." Gwen said.

"We vowed to protect you, look after you, we haven't done that." Percival said.

"You hadn't even met me yet, you can't possibly blame yourself for that!"

Gwaine seemed to come to his senses, or maybe he had been all along. "And that means you deserved what happened? That you didn't deserve to be protected? Damn it, Merlin!" Gwaine banged his fist against the table. Merlin flinched.

Elyan said, "It wasn't right for you to have no one. I can't imagine you knew anyone asides from your mother at the time. For you to have been alone like that, with no one else, no one to stop her from hurting you... Even if that was before you met us, it wasn't right."

"And it wasn't right for you to be alone here to. How many times have you been hurt, or in danger, and had no one there to watch your back?" Leon said. "I remember the dragon. I remember thinking it was madness, a servant riding out with us, but you survived. You always survive. What have you faced with us Merlin, without us ever realising how much you needed help? We let you be abandoned, that is our failing."

Merlin just gaped at them all.

"I never thought..." A voice came hesistantly from the side of the room.

Arthur looked over to see Hunith take a tentative step forward. He couldn't help but be angry at her, furious at her, but he balled his fists and swallowed that rage. This was Merlin's mother, he couldn't attack her. Merlin wouldn't allow it, no matter what she'd done.

"All this... to protect him." The look in her eyes, Arthur thought it might've been hope. "I'd always thought anyone knowing would surely mean his death, but this... _it doesn't matter__?_ My baby can be himself, be safe and _live_?" Arthur could definitely see tears in her eyes, her hands raised to cover her mouth.

The rage burning in his stomach died a bit.

He looked away from Hunith for a moment to look at Merlin, and saw everyone else doing just the same, staring entranced at the two of them. Merlin just stood there, looking vaguely uncomfortable with the whole situation. The way he twisted his mouth to keep silent, shuffled his steps as everyone stared; Arthur could've laughed.

XxX

What kind of bloody hell world was this, Gwaine wondered. He'd wanted to punch Hunith when he'd first noticed her in the room. He'd seen her, and then he'd pictured her holding a struggling Merlin under the water, and he could feel his fists already clenching as if around her throat to make _her_ stop breathing. Except then she spoke. And what bloody hell kind of world was this, where Hunith clearly wanted nothing more than to keep Merlin safe, and had ended up nearly drowning him.

It hit him then, not in the sense of vague understanding, but in actual words; _She was trying to protect her son. Protect him exactly like you want to protect him. Except, protect him from you. _

Gwaine, his brothers in arms, it didn't matter if he'd been knighted long after the purge, they all wore the same capes, all bore the same history. _Protect him from you_. Like Gwaine ever would've hurt him, except how would she have known that? She honestly thought her son would die. That he _already was. _

And what bloody hell kind of world was this, where a mother would be shocked her son's friends, the ones he'd saved for years, didn't want to kill him. Where she'd been ready to kill him only so they wouldn't get the chance.

It was as he was repeating the question in astonishment, what _bloody hell_ kind of world -- And 'bloody hell' he thought, just might have been the best and most expressive phrase in the English language and maybe now his favourite -- that Percival stepped forward and broke the silence that hadn't even been filled by Hunith's crying as the tears ran down her face silently.

He tilted his head toward her and looked back at Merlin as he made his vow. "He is safe. He will never allow any harm to come to him. He's our brother in all but blood."

It stirred something in Gwaine. He didn't want to strangle Hunith anymore. He looked at her, without red colouring his vision, and saw no evil there, no mal-intent, only desperation. Desperation for her son's safety. Well, Gwaine decided, if she'd feared for his life for so long, it was about time her worry was put to rest.

"We'd never hurt him. And we'd never let anyone else do likewise, merely for him having magic. Or in fact for any reason."

XxX

Gwen thought Merlin did look better than he had at lunch. He had more colour to his face, and he seemed more uncomfortable than terrified which was definitely an improvement. It gave her a warm glow inside to see Merlin standing at Arthur's side, without fear or any reservation. When she'd left after hearing Hunith's story, she hadn't been able to get how Merlin had looked throughout it out of her mind. He'd been pale and shaking and muttering things as if he wasn't even in control of his own body.

He'd looked broken.

That glow had died as the conversation progressed, and disappeared completely when Hunith spoke. Gwen had been unable to look away from Merlin throughout it all. He wasn't afraid, that was true, but her initial hope had diminished as she saw that he was confused. Confused and shocked that they, his supposed friends, did care for him still.

As Percival and Gwaine swore to his mother that they would portect him, that he was never in danger from them, she watched Merlin as he stared at the two knights in confoundement; As if he honestly could not understand what they were saying, certainly not why they were saying it.

She continued to watch him even as her own brother stepped forward. "We'll never let him be alone again. He won't ever have to suffer without support again." Merlin's eyes widened, Gwen didn't think his mouth could gape any wider.

"We all swore to look after Merlin. Now that we properly know what that entails, we can only do it more effectively." Leon affirmed. Merlin's mouth closed but his brows furrowed deeply.

Gwen knew, even as she didn't look his way, that it was Arthur's turn to say something. "I know that my kingdom must have been your bane throughout Merlin's childhood. I can't imagine how you brought yourself to allow him to ever come here, how you coped with that risk. But you won't need to fear any longer, nor anyone else. Those with magic will no longer will persecuted in Camelot." Merlin gasped and seemed to choke on his own shock as if he couldn't remember how to exhale. "Not when they clearly can be as loyal, selfless, brave and true and anyone without magic." Merlin met Arthur's gaze at that part, his mouth shakily opening and closing and his eyes blinking rapidly.

She heard a slumping sound and heard Gaius exclaim, "Hunith!" But she still couldn't look away.

"Merlin." She said, finally taking her turn. Merlin turned to look at her in what looked like trepidation or mere expectation. "Why have you helped us all these years?"

"Because you're my friends." He replied without hesitation.

"And yet, you look at us with shock that we'd accept you. That we'd still want to protect and support you. What must've it been like for you risk your life for all of us, whilst thinking we'd hate you and abandon you for how you did it. Why do it at all then?"

"You all act like this is my entire life. I mean, sure it meant something to me, having to be alone when I'd do these things. But it also meant something to me when we were at the tavern together and joking with each other, or when you and me, Gwen we'd complain about Arthur whenever he left the room." He said with a small smile, turning to Arthur. "I spent years saving your life while having to lie to you, yes. But I also spent years calling you a prat for all the chores you made me do and telling you what a clotpole you are. All that was still real. You risked your life to save mine too, sometimes. I knew that you all cared for me, I never doubted any of your friendships."

"Except you thought we'd stop caring as soon as we found out about your magic?" Gwen reaffirmed.

Merlin's eyes flicked to his mother's before he looked back at all of them, a red flush of embarrassment colouring the tips of his ears. "I guess... Kind of stupid of me then, that?"

"Very stupid, mate." Gwaine agreed.

"You were an absolute idiot about it of course, _Mer_lin."

At that, Merlin laughed, an actual proper grin on his face and Gwen felt that glow burn once again inside her.

XxX

Merlin wasn't sure what to think. They still cared, it didn't matter to them. At all. They just wanted him to be safe. They all were vowing to protect him. Gwen seemed more hurt that he'd never thought to trust them. Maybe he was an idiot.

But it was surreal, so unbelievable he thought he must've been missing something. There was no way everything was just going to work out all of a sudden. Arthur had talked of, maybe not explicitly, but he'd implied that he was going to change the law entirely; Repeal the ban on magic. As if it really didn't matter. As if just minutes ago, Arthur hadn't been sitting in his room, struggling just to witness his manservant performing magic.

It wasn't true, he knew it wasn't. He had magic, and that meant something, it _did_ matter.

"I saw you." He told Arthur. "You all don't want me dead... okay. But, I still have magic, and how can you say that doesn't matter when you haven't even _seen_ it. I showed you, I showed you my magic and you can't deny that you weren't happy about it. I was watching you, you were on edge. You can't all just pretend like my magic doesn't change anything."

"Obviously, it's changing a whole law." Arthur said. Merlin shook his head and opened his mouth to speak but stopped when Arthur interrupted him before he could begin, "No, Merlin. I'm sorry, really. You said you were trying to trust me and I know that I failed you again. Of course you having magic changes things. I was tense because I've only ever known magic as something to fight. But I didn't. I didn't do anything Merlin, because it was you using it, and I trust _you_. I'll get used to magic being in used in more ways than I knew it could be, and everyone else will too. Just because it will take time, doesn't mean that your magic changes who you are, or affects how much we all care about you."

Merlin was flabberghasted. He didn't think he'd ever experience anything in his life that made less sense than this entire affair. It was ridiculous, it was all absolutely and completely ridiculous.

_They clearly can be as loyal, selfless, brave and true and anyone without magic._

_We'll never let him be alone again. He won't ever have to suffer without support again._

_We all swore to look after Merlin._

_He's our brother in all but blood._

Absolutely ridiculous. Made no sense at all, last thing he'd expected to happen today.

But it had happened. It was true, and however absurd or senseless it was reality. He had magic. His friends just wanted him to be safe. They didn't hate him. They'd get used to the magic. They just wanted to protect him. Support him.

He wanted to cry. Maybe he already was, he thought his face might've been a bit wet.

They were his friends, brothers; his _family. _

He could trust them.

With a sob, he let himself collapse as his mother had done at the knights' vows. But he knew, he could trust one of his family to catch him.

XxX

**A/N: Ok, this took longer than I thought it would... it just kept getting longer! I'm pretty happy with it though, hope you you liked it too. Please review, it'd make me smile :)**

**And this is it. The one-shot expanded into a two-shot, but that is all, there is no more really to add to the story and it kind of feels like there's enough closure that anything else would be forcing the story.**

**Hope you all had a happy New Year's btw ;)**


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